Unsent letters
by Sofie
Summary: Rent-fic. It's easier to write a letter when you know that noone ever will read it. *new letter added*
1. Dear Angel

AN: We've all written them, right? The unsent letters. The ones where you pour your emotions down on the paper, only to then tear it into pieces and throw it in the trash bin. It is easier to write a letter to someone when you know that that someone's never going to read it. So, that is what I have in mind for our dear friends of RENT. This letter might be the first of many. On the other hand, it might not. We'll see. 

Anyway, on with the story.

Dear Angel.

That sounds so stupid, but that's the way you're supposed to start a letter, right? I wouldn't know, I don't think I've ever written a letter in my entire world. Except for that time in fourth grade when our teacher made us all get pen pals in another part of the country. I wrote to some boy in Minnesota, don't remember his name. I was terrible at writing, I didn't know what to say. He on the other hand wrote really long letters about his life on the farm that his family owned, and cows and crops and chickens and other stuff that I couldn't care less about. I stopped writing after about three letters. I don't think he missed it very much.

And now I'm writing a letter to a person that's been dead for almost a year. Is that crazy? Probably, but that's never stopped me before, right? I just miss talking to you so much.

You must wonder how everyone is. Collins is fine, he's in Santa Fe now, trying to get that restaurant of his started. He's missing you something fierce, even if he doesn't really talk about it. He still loves you so incredibly much, but I'm sure you know that. 

Mark is doing great. He's almost famous, now. He made this documentary, Today 4 U: Proof Positive. We're all in it, and oh, you are so beautiful. I've watched it so many times, it reminds me of how things used to be. I miss it. Anyway, some big network saw it, loved it, bought it, and asked Mark to make another one. He works almost all the time now, but he's really happy. I'm almost jealous. He's actually doing some business with Benny, would you believe that? Benny has been Mr. Nice Guy now, for a long time. He paid for your funeral, did you know that? He also paid rehab for me, twice. Not that that did much good, but that's another story. Muffy left him, she finally got fed up with his cheating, but he seems to be doing fine on his own. 

Maureen and Joanne broke up three months ago, and I think it's for good this time. It's just as well, they weren't really happy together anymore. I hardly ever see Joanne nowadays, she's working all the time on some big case. I have no idea what. Maureen isn't really doing anything. Sometimes she helps, if that's the right word, Mark with his filming. I have a feeling that there might be something going on between her and Benny, but don't tell them I said so, because they'd kill me! I'm probably just imagining things anyway.

And then there's Roger. He's pretty much the same as when you… died. The same poor talented, but frustrated, songwriter he's always been. There's one difference though. He's getting sicker, Angel. He's so pale, and I'm scared to death. I don't know what to do! He won't talk to me, not to anyone. I have no idea how he really is, because he won't tell me. He locks himself in his room, sometimes for days, and I have no idea what he's doing. I knew that he doesn't want to see me die, but it also seems like he doesn't want me to watch him die. I don't know what do to. I want to help him, but I don't know how. I feel so helpless! I've never thought it would be like this. I always thought, I think everyone thought that I would be the first of us to die. And I was fine with that. But I don't think I can handle it the other way around. I don't want to be the one that's left behind. I'm so scared, Angel. I want you to be here! I need you. I can't talk to anyone else. Mark is ignoring the whole thing, he doesn't want to know. I think he's just as scared as me, but he refuses to admit it. He pretends like nothing's wrong. I can't talk to Benny, Maureen or Joanne either. I know the love Roger, but they're just not as close to him as me, Mark and Collins. I guess Collins would probably be the best bet, but I don't want to talk to him. I don't want him to go through all this again. He shouldn't have to. It's less then a year since you left, and he's still grieving you. I just can't put more weight on his shoulders, I can't! 

So, as you see I'm on my own here. Roger is sick, I'm alone, I'm scared, and I don't know what to do. I need you! I need you to be here! 

I love you so much.

I miss you so much.

But I don't think I can forgive you for not being here. 

I'm sorry. 

~Mimi


	2. Dear Mother

AN: We all know a bit about Mark, Roger, Joanne and Mimi's relationships with their parents, since they appear in the show. I started to wonder about the rest of them, Benny, Maureen, Angel and Collins, and how their relationships with their parents were. This is one thought.

Dear Mother

How are you? That seems so inadequate after not having talked to you for so many years. I don't even know if you still live on the same address. Not that it matters. I'm never going to send this letter anyway.

I wonder sometimes. Do you ever miss me? Do you ever regret what you said? Do you ever think about me at all, or have you erased me completely from your memories. 

I just want to know why. What did I do wrong? Why do you hate me so much? You loved me unconditionally for twenty-two years. How could three words change our entire lives? I know it's against what you believe in, but I'm your son. Wasn't I worth an exception? 

I am gay, mother. Nothing can ever change that, nothing ever will. It's part of who I am. It doesn't make me less of a man. It shouldn't change anything between us. You're my mother. You're supposed to love me and support me, no matter what. What happened to that?

Mother… I can't even bear myself to call you mom. I don't know you anymore. If I were to meet you in the street I'm not even sure I'd recognise your face. You're a stranger to me now. But I still miss you so much it hurts.

I've met someone. Someone I love with all of my heart and all of my soul. He's everything I could ever wish for. He's beautiful, talented, intelligent, kind and generous. And he loves me. He loves me! For the first time in so many years I'm finally happy again. 

But that's not why I'm writing. There is something I think you should know. 

I'm sick, mother. Yes, it's AIDS. I'm sure that's the first thing that came to your mind. After all, that's one of the things you said to me, remember? Homosexuality automatically brings on AIDS, wasn't that what you said? Two diseases for the price of one, right? I'm not sure if it was before or after you quoted the Bible to me. I didn't care what God thought about me. Or the church, or the neighbours, or anyone. I only cared about what you thought. And you betrayed me. I can help but thinking, that if it was so easy for you to turn your back on me, then did you ever love me at all? Or was it all a lie? 

Anyway, I'm dying. I just wanted to tell you that.

But I'm never going to send this letter. Because I'm scared you won't even care. 

Your son - Tom. 


End file.
